Ghost Walker: Long Shadows
by The Dishonored Wolf
Summary: 13000 years after the Great War, the world has recovered. Something is happening in Aurora Valley. Pups are going missing, entire packs vanishing without a trace. Kate and Humphrey are pups in the Ice River Pack. Humphrey is plagued by dark visions of war and terror, and must now undergo a journey to uncover the dark secrets of Aurora Valley and find his destiny as a Ghost Walker.
1. Prologue I

**ACT I: The Pup**

**- Aurora Valley**

**- Winter**

**- 13000 Years Ago**

Acallia walked forward, trudging wearily through the snow. Her tongue lolled out and her eyes hung low, red veins blistering at the whites of her eyeballs. Ice was embedded in the creases of her paw pads, her paws themselves numb and bleeding. Wolves were not supposed to leave obvious traces of themselves, ever; but she did not care. She didn't even care to say goodbye to her mate. All she cared for was to find her pups.

Ever since they went missing three seasons prior, she'd been searching. After several days, the pack had given up. 'They were too young' they said. 'No pup could last in this cold' they said. But Acallia never gave up. She pushed on forward and persevered. She was dumbfounded and hurt when her mate told her to give up. How could he give up? How could he do this to her?

"It's been four moons," he told her warily as they padded through the forest. "They never even left a scent trail, and if they did it was washed away in the spring-rains. They've been gone too long, Acallia."

"You just want to mate with me again!" She hissed accusingly, her fur bristling. He was taken aback and he inched away ever so slightly. Her eyes burned with a rage he'd never seen before.

She lashed out at him and left marks down his eye. She was momentarily sorry and regretted it. She prepared herself for him to attack her, but he did not. He was not that kind of wolf. He walked away, and they were no longer mates.

For attacking her mate, she was banished from the pack. She wandered the mountains and valleys as a lone wolf, always searching for her lost pups. She'd come wandering through her old territory many a time, and each instance she was chased off, the wolves biting at her flank and tearing away at her. They were under orders to kill trespassers, and that was what she had become now: a trespasser in her own home.

Moons passed. Her fur sagged and her bones showed through. She developed a kind of limp, and she felt the spark of insanity tug on her conscience. The snow blew past her, whipping to and fro until finally, she could continue no longer and collapsed in a heap. She curled up and shivered violently, the snow building up around her body until it became an icy tomb.

**3 DAYS LATER**

"It's about time you dragged your sorry rump off the ground," a voice growled. Acallia's vision was blurry - all she could see was the dim glow of the sun. The sun, for some unknown reason, was in the middle of a cave. What in the name of Fenrir…? She thought. She blinked rapidly and her vision cleared a little. She could hear a crackling sound, and she parted her jaws slightly to scent the air. She smelled something crisp, hot, like...like...like fire.

She bolted upright and ran back to the other side of the cave. Her mind raced and screamed at her to leave, to get as far away from the fire as possible. Hot! It was hot! She heard a small chuckle to the side and saw a young she-wolf sitting in the rear of the cave. She was perhaps three years of age, older than Accallia by a few moons perhaps. Her fur was a dark, muddy brown, a white underbelly boasting the only other color on her body. Her left ear was torn, her yellow eyes staring at her intently. Half of the she-wolf's tail was gone. Despite these downfalls, she was a quite attractive young she-wolf.

Acallia looked around the cave and eyed the fire cautiously. She'd been long warned against the dangers of the raging infernos. How this stranger had managed to get one so small into her own den was a mystery to her.

"Where am I?" She asked.

"My den," the she-wolf replied. Acallia shook her head

"No, what territory?" She elaborated. "What territory am I in?" The she-wolf cocked her head slightly, her torn ear flicking downward slightly in confusion.

"Territory?" She asked. It was like she'd never heard the word before. "My territory." Acallia growled and motioned to the outside world.

"How did I get here? Where am I exactly?" This seemed to spark the she-wolf's memory.

"I found you in the snow outside the Ice Lake Territory," she replied with a sharp-toothed smile. "You were fucking stupid to just sit out there like a curl-tailed idiot." Her insults stung Acallia and she blinked, looking away as she simmered in anger.

"I didn't just sit there because I liked it," she growled. The she-wolf flicked her tail and walked about, muttering to herself.

She began rummaging through an assortment of leaves and other planets stored on the side of the den. Acallia cringed when she saw what was possibly hundreds of teeth, some of which she swore were of a wolf.

"Who are you?" Acallia stammered. The she-wolf perked up and smiled.

"I am Tipika," she replied. "I am the - well, was - the mage of Black River." She looked down when she said 'was,' as though it hurt her to think of it.

"Mage?" She asked in confusion. Tipika nodded.

"Few packs have them," she replied. "Mages are the spiritual assistants of the Leaderwolf. I was trained to work with herbs and to create fire."

This made no sense to Acallia whatsoever. What kind of a wolf worked with herbs? What kind of wolf would even dare to associate themselves with the forces of fire? What was wrong with this she-wolf?

Acallia had always been taught from her puphood that to be wolf, one must hunt and care for the pack, avoid the destructive forces of nature, and to defend their territory. For the she-wolves, they were to breed strong, healthy pups for the pack. If an anomaly occurred and the pup was born weak, sick, or with a rare deformation, then it was to be abandoned. Weakness was not allowed in the pack.

But this...mage...what place did it have in the pack? She'd never even heard of them before, not even from the stories of old when the dire wolves walked the earth. This didn't matter, though; what was the point of dwelling on this? She had a duty to fulfill: to find her pups.

"Where did you say I am?" She asked.

"My territory," Tipika replied readily.

"Right, right," Acallia said. "Where are we in relation to Aurora Valley?

"We're at the top of Mount Lupus in the Et De Terra Pass," she said. Acallia was surprised by this. Et De Terra Pass to the far north of Aurora Valley, looking out over the lands that the wolves lived in. How did this scrawny she-wolf get her all the way here?

"I need to get to Aurora Valley, my home," she told Tipika. Her ears went down sadly.

"Oh," she replied. "I see."

"I need to find my pups," she continued. This seemed to pique Tipika's interest.

"Your pups are lost?" She asked. Acallia flinched; perhaps she'd given away more than she should have. Now it was too late. She sighed and nodded.

"Yes," she replied, trying to keep her steady composure. "They went missing three moons ago, at the beginning of the spring-rains." Tipika listened intently and her tail flicked a little. She waved her tail through the fire and it warped around her, dissipating into the air. Acallia's eyes widened at the sight. What a strange she-wolf, she thought.

"I have heard tales of pups disappearing throughout many territories," she said, her eyes hardening. She no longer looked like a tiny scrap of a wolf anymore. "You have heard of the Shadow Pack?"

"The Guardians of Aurora?" Acallia asked in confusion. "Yes, why?"

"They have not lost pups," Tipika replied flatly, walking out of the den. Acallia looked at her, bewildered.

"You suggest that they pupkapped?" She exclaimed, aghast. "No, they protect Aurora Valley, just as the Winter Peaks guard all wolves. They wouldn't just steal a pup!"

"They haven't guarded us either," Tipika said, leaping outside into the snow. Acallia looked after her and gaped.

"Where are you going?" Acallia called. Tipika just kept walking.

"Same place you're going," she called back. "Aurora's Heart!"

**A/N: This is not your typical A&O Story. Then again, the Darkness trilogy was quite atypical of previous stories as well. This is a story that one day I will publish. Names will be changed to fit the A&O setting. This story also takes place 13000 years after the events of the novel I am close to publishing, Dark World. Needless to say, it's good to be back. Until next time!**

**- The Dishonored Wolf**


	2. Dawn Break

**- Aurora Valley**

**- Spring**

Humphrey opened his ice blue eyes, blinking rapidly as the pale dawn light streamed through the mouth of the cave. He stretched his body, his small tail flicking back and forth. He opened his tiny maw and yawned, his fangs shining a little in the light.

He was two moons of age, a newborn to the pack, and an omega. He was the lowest of the low in the hierarchical chain of command in a wolf pack. That's what his parents told him anyway; not that he knew what that was supposed to mean. His mother didn't like to elaborate on the issue; ignorance was bliss. His father, however, disagreed. 'He has to know where he stands,' he would say. Humphrey, however, didn't care for his parents petty argument over being an omega. He simply enjoyed life.

The cave was quite cool. He looked around the cave. No one else was up yet. At least, not that he could tell. Ryker was sleeping to the side. He was an old, grizzled wolf, even older than the Leaderwolf. He was something called a 'beta,' the only one that could casually talk with the Leaderwolves. Omegas were not allowed this luxury.

Outside. That was where Humphrey wanted to be. It was technically off-limits to the pups, but that didn't prevent them from trying every chance they got. Each and every generation would always try. The elders, however, warned them against it. Few make it outside, and most that do, they said, never came back. They'd become the meal of a badger or a bear, a coyote or a snake. The pups, overconfident as they were, did not heed these warnings. They didn't know what any of those animals were to begin with.

Suddenly, something jumped on his back and pushed him to the ground. He landed heavily and grunted as the wind was knocked out of him. He looked about frantically, trying to scramble away from his invisible adversary, but to no avail.

"Ha, got you now, Humph!" A female voice yipped. Humphrey's demeanor brightened significantly as he heard Kate's cheerful voice. He looked up and saw a pair of amber eyes staring into his.

He rolled over and Kate squealed in happiness. They parted and looked at each other from a meter away, their tails wagging and large smiles on their faces. Kate was a tawny-furred she-wolf with a white chest and underbelly, the daughter of the Leaderwolf and what his parents called an 'alpha.' Kate had a brother, a brown-furred wolf with bright yellow eyes named Atau. He was an alpha as well, but far more shy and introverted than his outgoing, slightly elder sister. Kate and Humphrey were best friends.

Kate yipped and darted to the side, Humphrey's blue eyes scanning her every move. She panned out and away from him, then turned tail and charged his flank, her ears flicked back and a determined smile on her face.

Humphrey leapt away when she was less than a half meter from him, then he quickly spun around and leapt on Kate's back. She yelped and tried to throw him off, but he held fast and they rolled on the ground. They giggled happily and pawed at each other's faces. Humphrey bopped her nose and she sneezed, then grinned and took his muzzle in her jaws.

His eyes widened and he looked at her piteously, letting a low whine escape him. She thought she had hurt him unintentionally and quickly pulled away. His trick had worked. As soon as her jaws left his muzzle, he barrelled underneath her. She fell onto her back and Humphrey pinned her to the ground. He smiled triumphantly, their tails wagging furiously. Their favorite game was to play-fight.

"Good job, pup," an old voice crackled from behind. They turned to see Ryker, laying against the wall, watching them with keen eyes. He smiled wryly at the two young'uns. It was a shame that they couldn't be friends much longer. Kate pouted.

"Humphrey cheated!" She whined, lowering her ears and tail. Humphrey felt a bit guilty now and lowered his tail as well.

"He used a tactic," Ryker contradicted her. "It's not cheating. You shouldn't have known that you hadn't actually hurt him. Otherwise, you would have been the victor." Humphrey licked Kate's cheek and she smiled slightly, her ears flattened against her skull and her tail wagging ever so slightly. They returned to their game, and Ryker looked outside worriedly. The hunting party had left before the break of dawn. Where were they now?

At the other end of the territory, a black-furred wolf watched. He waited, his bright yellow eyes scanning the land that had once been his home. He slunk into the tall grass and prowled forward. He had swam through a river, then rolled about in dung and soil, masking his scent. No one would be able to pick up his scent, nor distinguish what pack he was from. Not that anyone would remember; his pack hadn't been to the valley in thirteen thousand years.

Nine more of his wolves surrounded him. They were the hunting party. Their prey was the Ice River Pack. A coyote ran forward, into their ranks. He fell to the ground before the black-furred wolf, groveling in the dirt in a posture of submission. The wolf looked at him in disgust. They were worthless animals.

"What news do you have, Scout?" He asked. The coyote looked up at him, careful not to make direct eye-contact.

"They are fifty wolf-lengths from our position," he replied. "They'll follow my scent trail. They haven't given any indication of knowing you're here." The wolf nodded and picked up the coyote by the scruff throwing him back behind their group. The coyote yelped and scrambled away.

The wolves waited...and waited...and waited. Just as the coyote had said, the hunting group walked right into the midst of their group, unbeknownst to their presence. The black-furred wolf flicked his tail, a silent signal. They crept forward, closing in on their prey. Four wolves against ten. They wouldn't stand a chance. They stopped and waited...waited...waited..._NOW!_

They leapt forward and attacked the four wolves, silencing them within moments. They hadn't even had the chance to yelp before they tore out their throats. The black wolves dragged their bodies into the trees, stowing them away in a rotting, bloodied heap, then the black-furred wolves walked away, materializing into the trees. It was time for the return.

**A/N: I won't be updating every day, just so you all know. I'm writing a real novel that I intend to publish soon, so that takes priority over this. However, I will update once to twice a week. Thanks to LillyAndMe, The-crazy-lone-wolf77, and the dark shadow for reviewing my last chapter. Until next time!**

**-The Dishonored Wolf**


	3. Gone

**- Aurora Valley**

**- Spring**

"They were all dead?" Soren gasped. Ryker nodded drearily. Soren looked to his mate, Tara, and shared a worried glance.

"The party split in pairs - four wolves came back, but for wolves were hunted and killed like common prey," Ryker spat.

"What could have done this?" Tara whispered, her eyes filled with fear. As soon as she'd heard, she had ushered Kate and Atau to their private den, the two pups mewling in complaint. They wanted to play with some worthless omega pup named Humphrey. Tara paid them no mind and commanded that they stay put.

Ryker had been out on patrol when only half of the hunting party came in. They were confused - they'd assumed the rest had already returned to the cave. Ryker shrugged and stretched his aching limbs, feeling it was time to get up and move once more. He scouted the territory, scenting the air for the rest of the patrol but finding absolutely nothing.

Finally, he came to the tall grasses. This was the place that wolves must be careful - sometimes a stray mountain lion would intrude upon their territory markers and hide in the grass. He scented the air once more, but a rotten taste filled his mouth. He sneezed and blinked several times. He prowled forward, the scent of battle and blood flooding the area. He noticed a speck on one of the large grass blades - a crimson drip of blood.

Cautiously, he approached to view the epicenter of the carnage. Blood splattered the earth, thick and hot in the newly risen sun. Fur lay about in puddles of the red liquid. An entire tail, torn off from the one who had owned it, lay soaked in the blood pool. Ryker gagged, doing his best to keep from retching. His entire body shook and convulsed; he had never seen such horrific devastation upon life. Every so often a pup would wander out and be torn to pieces by a fox or a coyote or a badger, but nothing like this.

This was murder; not just blind, random killing, not self defense, not pure hunger. This was a battle; something had happened here, but Ryker had no idea what that could be. A path through the grass led away into the trees, laid flat by a heavy amount of lost blood. He followed the trail nervously, the scent of rot and Ice River wolves in a heavy aroma around him.

He rounded a bend through the tall grass and into the forest. Sunlight streamed through the foliage above, lighting the forest. Had the destruction to wolf life not been done, this would have been a peaceful, serene place to just walk with a mate, play with pups, or just lay and bask in the warming sunlight. It was these momentary thoughts that he had when he saw just what had become of his packmates.

Ryker fell to the earth, his eyes wide and his mind swimming in a sea of disbelief. There, behind a large, old oak, were the bodies of four wolves - at least, what was left of their bodies. They were ripped apart. Limbs were scattered about, each of their legs torn off and thrown into the pile at random. Their bellies and chests had been cut, their rib cages pointed outward as their internal organs and blood drained in a sickly pool around them. Their eyes had been gouged out, claw marks streaking their bloodied faces. Their lower jaws had all been torn off, the four pieces laid out in a neat row in front of the bodies, the blood flowing around them like water would around a rock.

The heavy scent of death hung in the air, and Ryker found himself rendered immobile, helpless at the horrible sight. He knew not how long he lay there, staring at the disturbing image. By will of the spirits or by pure resilience, he forced himself up and stumbled back to the pool of blood in the tall grass. He scented the air, trying to discern any scent anomalies. He could only find the scent of death and the stray scent of a lone coyote; there was no chance that a coyote could have done this to four matured wolves.

He moved on, closer to the river, away from the blood. He scented the air, but could find nothing. That was quite odd. He sought for pawprints, but found none. He crashed into the river, letting the cool, icy water run over his body, cooling his face and washing the blood-scent from his pelt. He took several gulps of water and moved to the other side, scenting the air again. He was in hostile pack territory, but he needed to know if the assailants had come from here. He could not detect anything more than the old territory boundaries placed by the other pack, and he certainly did not scent them near the carnage.

For hours, stretching from morning to dusk, he sought for answers. He was always good and finding answers in a mysterious, seemingly hopeless situation, but not this one. For once, he was dumbfounded and without any kind of answers. Defeatedly, he returned to the den. The wolves regarded him oddly; they must have smelled the faint trace of blood on his pelt. Soren and Tara, the Leaderwolves of Ice River, came to his side, helping him to their private den.

Tara picked her pups up by their scruffs and hurried them to the back of their den where they laid sadly, whining to be let out again. Ryker, quietly so the pups would not hear, told the Leaderwolves his tale. They were speechless and dumbfounded as he was - nothing like this had ever happened before, not in their lifetimes. The last time any kind of mass destruction happened was during the Great War, when humans walked the earth and fought an alien foe. That was when the moon was destroyed, when earthquakes wrecked the planet and re-terraformed the surface of the earth.

They walked outside, into the cool air, and stared up and the shattered pieces of what was once, thousands of years ago, a whole moon. The spirit lights were not out tonight; there were no answers in the stars for the wolves of Ice River. Soren and Tara decided that larger hunting groups were to be sent out, and that the tall grasses were to be off limits. A team would bury the dead wolves later, pay their respects. Luckily, none of them had left litters of pups. There was little more they could do; life goes on.

**The Next Day**

"Come on, lazy-fur!" Humphrey yipped at Atau. The pup looked up at him curiously. Kate leapt beside Humphrey, their tails wagging furiously, large grins on their faces. "Get up, Atau! Come on, play with us!"

"Don't be a curl-tail!" Kate piped in. That got Atau up; a curl-tail was the worst insult a wolf could say to another. A curl-tail was the wolf that was the lowest of the low, the one no one liked, the one that was bullied and used and pushed around all of his or her life. No pup wanted to be a curl-tail, especially not Atau!

"I'm no curl-tail!" He barked defensively, leaping to his paws. He growled at them and they laughed, tackling him to the ground. He yelped and the trio rolled about together, happy as could be.

"Humphrey!" A voice called. The three stopped and looked at two omega wolves. Humphrey stood and walked over to them, his tail and head drooping. Usually they called for him when he'd done something wrong.

"Yes, mom?" He squeaked. She nuzzled between his ears.

"Your father and I are going out to hunt in the tall grass today," she told him. "We'll be back later."

"Oh, okay!" He replied, no longer afraid of a scolding. They licked between his ears and set off. A few minutes later, another, larger hunting group went off into the forest, murmuring about how his parents were fools for going to the tall grass.

**Later**

"Leaderwolf," Ryker gasped, bursting into their den. Soren and Tara looked up in confusion. "We lost two more." They bolted to their paws and strung out a volley of questions, none of which Ryker had the answers to.

"No, they aren't dead as far as I can tell," he replied. "They were the parents of the omega pup, Humphrey. I followed their scent into the tall grass, but it just disappears. I searched and searched but couldn't find anything. They're just...gone."

A/N: Dun, dun, DUNNNNNNN! Thanks to the dark shadow, LillyAndMe, TheMysteriousAlpha and wizz713 for reviewing my last chapter. Until next time!

-The Dishonored Wolf


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